Best Laid Plans
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: Tim learns the hard way that sometimes things don't pan out the way you want them to. Written for the NFA Fluff Challenge. McGiva!


Timothy McGee had a plan. Since his first date with the beautiful Mossad liaison, Tim had envisioned their first time having sex. No, not having sex; _making love_. He had put the event off for weeks, assurring Ziva that it was no slight against her. He simply didn't want to jump directly into sex, not with this relationship. This time he wanted to make her – and himself – _really_ wait for it. After all, aren't the best things worth waiting for?

"The wait will make it all the better," he would promise at the end of each date as he gently stroked her cheek. He knew she was restless, she was frustrated. It was flattering to see just how much she wanted him. He couldn't deny that the feeling was mutual.

She would lean into his touch. "With this wait, it had better be," she would lament. "You had better go the whole ten yards for this."

And so he had. Tim had planned out a romp between the sheets that was so luscious and romantic that he hadn't a doubt that he would make the tough assassin purr like a kitten. She would be putty in his hands at the end of it.

First had been an inventory of his music. He was lucky to already have a large amount of music that would put her in the mood. Now it was a question of finding the perfect record. Should he go with Nat King Cole? No doubt the unforgettable crooner's dulcet tones would be as smooth as Tim's hands as they ran along Ziva's body. Or would it be smarter to choose an all instrumental soundtrack for their night? Sure, Tony had commented that his instrumental music sounded more like the soundtrack of a bad 70's porno than it did actual jazz, but who's to say that's a bad thing considering the circumstances?

Instrumental jazz it was!

Tim stopped by a local candle store next and stocked up on scented candles. He approached the check-out counter, his arms filled with lavender, vanilla, rosewood, jasmine, and chamomile scented candles. When he explained to the cashier what his plans were, she suggested he try their newest scent of incense, conveniently named Sex on the Beach. He wasn't sure if she was on the level or if she was simply trying to make another sale, but he doled out an additional bit of cash for the incense and an incense burner. With a name like Sex on the Beach it _had_ to be a worthy investment!

He went next to the florist, visions of a rose-petal covered bed vibrant in his mind. It was cliché, he knew, but he wanted it to be beautiful. He would sprinkle them across his bed and along the floor. It would be a beautiful trail of rose petals leading to the bedroom. As he surveyed the flower options, he decided to also grab a few lilies and even a sunflower to add some variety. He would turn his somewhat masculine bedroom into a flowery and sensual temple of sex.

Previous date preparations had generally involved a shower, a nice suit, and perhaps a dab of cologne. This time, though, Tim gave himself two hours to really prepare for the date. He took a shower per usual, this time lathering a musky scented soap all over his skin. After perfectly styling his hair – Ziva seemed to prefer combed to the side over his usual slicked back look – he carefully looked through his closet for the best outfit. The winner was a black Armani suit with a clean, white shirt and a dark green tie that really brought out the color in his eyes. He even pulled out his new Italian leather shoes, still perfectly polished and clean. The final touch was his newest cologne, a scent he knew would make it difficult for Ziva to keep herself away from him.

The plan was this: He would pick up Ziva at her apartment and bring her to dinner at a beautiful Italian restaurant in the city. The date would then take them to Tim's apartment where the flower petals would already be strewn about the bed and floor. He knew he couldn't light the candles before they left, so he would ask Ziva to wait by the door while he ran quickly about his room, lighting the candles and incense. A final stop at his record player would start up the music, after which he would return to where Ziva was waiting for him. He would sweep her up into his arms and carry her to the beautifully decorated, wonderfully scented bedroom and lay her gently on his bed. He had some nice scented oils and lotions which he would dribble over her olive-tinted skin, rubbing it in gently while she grew hornier and wetter in anticipation. From there…he felt his stomach flip about as he thought about where they would go from there.

After the bout of love making, he would bring in two glasses and the bottle of champagne he currently had chilling in the refrigerator. It would be the perfect celebration of the consecration of their relationship. The perfect end of a perfect night.

In short, it was the perfect plan.

He gave himself one more look in the mirror, checking every bit of himself from head to toe. Perfect. Everything was going to be perfect.

* * *

"Dinner was wonderful," Ziva said, giving Tim her best sex kitten look. She leaned in, pressing her face into his neck, inhaling his sweet smell.

Tim closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of her body pressed against his. When he'd made the suggestion that they go to his place after dinner, Ziva had immediately recognized that he had something in store. Now, as they neared the apartment, she was growing more and more anxious, more and more wanting. When they got to the door, she was practically crawling on him. Not that Tim was complaining, of course.

"What do you have planned, McGee?" she asked while he worked to unlock the door.

He laughed, pushing the door open almost frantically. "Well, I figured that it was about time you and I took our relationship to the next level."

Ziva moaned as the door closed, wrapping her arms around Tim's torso. "I was afraid this would never happen," she whispered. "I've just been waiting and waiting."

"I know," he said. "I just wanted it to be perfect."

In a flash, she had him pinned against the door, her lips against his. Tim loved the feel of her lips…the taste of her lips…everything about her lips! But he had a plan. He had to stick to the plan.

"Just wait–"

"No! Timothy, I cannot wait!" she exclaimed. "We are doing this!"

"Yes, Ziva, we are! I just want to do a couple of things first."

She wasn't listening. Ziva was a horny and forceful woman with an agenda. Namely, she was going to have Timothy McGee right there and right then no matter what he said. Despite the difference of sizes, she managed to get him on the floor in a matter of seconds. Ziva straddled him, her hands busily unbuttoning his shirt.

"I want you now," she purred as she worked the material off his shoulders. "Do you want me?"

Tim, out of both fear and lust, simply lay there, stunned. "Yes,' he managed to sputter. "Yes, I very much want you right now!"

She grinned a Cheshire Cat grin as she leaned in to him. "Then you will have me."

Thoughts of music and flowers and oils and scented candles were out the door. Replacing them were explosions of passion and wanting, feelings of kisses and sucking and licking, and trembles and shivers of ecstasy. His back was pressed flat against the floor and her body was atop his as her mouth explored his body. He quickly worked her dress off, flinging it away without a second thought. Likewise, Ziva worked her fingers along the zipper of his pants, working them down so that he was left with white boxers, the fabric of which was protruding out from his groin area.

The couple's groans of pleasure echoed through the apartment – and may have reached the ears of his neighbors. Had anyone lived beneath Tim, they would have been treated to banging and shaking against their ceiling as Tim and Ziva reached their climaxes. The beautiful and passionate event didn't end abruptly. Even after they both came, there were trembling kisses and shaky strokes against sweat soaked skin. The only sounds now, though, were the rapid beats of their hearts.

Ziva was smiling, her face pressed against Tim's bare chest. He, however, was less pleased. This was not the way it was supposed to happen. The music, the flowers, the candles…he'd had a plan! He'd wanted it perfect! He hadn't wanted a rough screw on his floor.

"What is wrong," she asked, catching sight of his frown. "Was I not good?"

"You were great…fantastic," he assured her. "I had just hoped it would be different."

"Different how?"

"I had it planned out. I had picked music. I bought candles and flowers…and even incense! I wanted it to be beautiful."

"McGee, it _was_ beautiful." She lifted her head, looking him in the eyes. "The beauty was not in flowers and incense but in you and I having sex."

"But I wanted it to be more than that," he told her, running a hand through her dark mane of hair.

"Why? Why is it so wrong to have passionate and loving sex?"

"It's not. It's just…" He paused, taking her hand and stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "This relationship is important to me and I want it to be perfect."

"There is no such thing as perfection, Timothy. We cannot have definite plans for this relationship, at least, not ones that are written in cement. Every relationship needs an element of uncertainty." She stood, helping Tim to his feet. "I appreciate that you put so much effort into this and I am sorry that it did not work out the way you had hoped, but I am happy! I enjoyed it, even though it was on the hard floor." She paused, giving him a sly smile. "I guess you know what that means."

"What?"

She pushed herself up to the balls of her feet, her mouth against his ear. "Well, if it was that good on the floor then it will be even better with the flowers and music, yes?"

It took all of two seconds for Tim to sweep her into his arms and carry her into the bedroom.

"I have learned, McGee, that sometimes it is better when the plan does_ not_ go your way."

* * *

**The end!**


End file.
